


Ergi

by TextualDeviance



Series: The Raven and the Dove [8]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Angst, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TextualDeviance/pseuds/TextualDeviance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athelstan wonders why he must keep his relationship with Ragnar a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ergi

**Author's Note:**

> Set in late 1x06, just before Ragnar goes back to Northumbria. Follows [Spring Fever](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1655192).

The past several months had seen a drastic change in Athelstan, both physically and mentally. It hadn't even been a year, yet since he was captured at Lindisfarne and brought to this wild place by these wild people, and yet he had already begun to feel as if he belonged there somehow. The language and religion still were not native for him, and he supposed they never would be. Some of the village's residents also still viewed him with suspicion and contempt, despite their earl's order that they treat Athelstan as a member of his household, rather than a common slave. Mostly, however, he felt like he had settled in, and found a space in which he fit. He even had his own place during sessions of court: at the bottom step of the dais, near the children. Not one of the noble family, no, but clearly someone the earl respected and consulted; a position of honor.

Of course, few people knew exactly what other positions the earl often had him in.

Though the initial roughness of Lagertha's pregnancy had passed, and she and Ragnar were now coupling regularly again, his desire for Athelstan had not dampened. If anything, their ardor continued to build, and Athelstan often found himself dragged off to a quiet, secret place during the day, or awakened at dawn so that they might have a few moments of carnal bliss without drawing the suspicions of others. So far, only Lagertha knew, though Athelstan thought Bjorn might be figuring it out. They also once had to explain away a passionate clinch as mere wrestling when Torstein happened upon them behind the horse barn. He had initially looked confused and skeptical, but eventually accepted the lie. Only their recent tryst near the waterfall had been experienced in full abandon. Every other time was always furtive, always shadowed, and it had begun to wear on him.

"I don't understand why we must hide all the time," Athelstan told him after yet another near miss, this time with Leif, who was trying to find where his mother had got to and for some reason thought the milking shed was a possibility. Only the fact that they were already finished and were nearly dressed again saved them from being caught. "I thought your people weren't concerned with marital fidelity."

"We are concerned with it, actually." Ragnar fastened his breeches and rubbed a hand across his face. "Though it's mostly a matter of honor and ensuring that people know who is the father of any children. Our women know ways to avoid pregnancy, so if she eats the right herbs and roots, she may be with other men without worry, so long as her husband agrees. Some men and women prefer to think that they own each other, which is their right, but others choose differently. Both ways are common. The matter of heirs is all that is really important."

"Well, pregnancy is no issue for us, obviously, and Lagertha is agreeable, unless she has changed her mind and not told me. Honestly, she keeps teasing me with suggestions of what might happen after she's recovered from the birth of your son, so her will seems inclined toward us."

"It is true," Ragnar said, beaming. "She sometimes even asks me to tell her what we do. It excites her, so I tell her every detail."

Athelstan's eyes grew big.

Ragnar laughed and ruffled his hair. "You are still so easy to shock."

Athelstan released a breath and rolled his eyes. He finished lacing up his belt and straightened the hem of his overshirt. "Lagertha aside, then, is the problem because I'm your servant, perhaps?"

Ragnar nodded. "In part, yes. Free men and women may use thralls at their pleasure, but what we have is not like that; I would not do this against your will, nor would I if I believed you were doing it mainly to serve me. In this we are equals, and that makes it different, in a way some would not like. Many people believe I am debasing myself even to call you a friend and companion, much less to seek your advice as my steward. That you are a foreigner and a Christian only makes matters worse—they believe I may be growing disloyal to our people by showing favor to an outsider."

"I see. That makes sense. In that case, though, why not give me legal freedom? If I am free, and officially call myself a Northman, surely it would not matter if we were . . . friends."

Ragnar stared into the distance, his eyes narrowing and his jaw growing tense. "That brings up the other part. It is not only that you are not free. It is that you are a man."

Athelstan frowned. "Is it? I know Christians aren't supposed to do what we do—well, we're not supposed to have any pleasures of the flesh, much less these things called sins against nature—but I thought it was different here. I thought even Floki and Torstein had—"

"No." Ragnar shook his head. "A woman shared between Northmen isn't the same thing. If I were only sharing Lagertha with you—and if you were one of our people and a free man—no one would think twice. Men in such encounters may, if they are inclined, touch each other to some degree during them, but an encounter without a woman involved would be very questionable. What you and I have recently begun to do is looked down upon even more. We have a word for men who serve other men this way: _ergi_. They are men who behave like women: Men who practice the magic of women, who are not strong, who cannot lead, who cannot hold a shield or axe. They are men who do not father sons. These men are shunned—often even killed. Only those rare ones who have a gift for prophecy, like our Seer, are allowed to remain members of our community, and even then they are avoided. They are not part of our families. It is of vital importance to our survival as a people that our men be strong and able to hold our lands while taking what we need from others. We do not have room for men who are weak."

"Surely you're not this . . . _ergi_ , though. You're not weak." Athelstan looked Ragnar up and down. The tall, muscled man with the strong jaw and piercing gaze struck fear in all who would oppose him. He was a born leader and a skilled warrior, not one who could ever be thought of as a lesser man. "How could anyone think you are?"

"I'm not, no, but. . . ." He looked over, meeting Athelstan's eyes.

A wave of nausea filled his belly as the understanding came upon him. " _I_ am."

Ragnar smiled sadly.

Athelstan went quiet as he considered Ragnar's words. Suddenly, it all made sense. The contempt he had been shown by the other Northmen wasn't just a matter of him being a foreigner or a Christian, or even a slave. It was because he had lived in a monastery, and had never touched a woman. It was because he was an artist and an educated man, instead of a warrior. It was because he had learned the ways of languages instead of blades. All of these things made him this lesser creature in the eyes of these people even without them knowing of the acts that sealed it; without them knowing that he not only allowed Ragnar the use of his body, but desired it. To the Northmen, he wasn't just enjoying the company and pleasure of a friend, but surrendering to the will of another man without even fighting back to prove his strength.

If Ragnar were to give him his legal freedom, it would become clear to all exactly how much he mattered to the earl, and exactly how much their leader was lowering himself to be close to such a contemptible man. Alone, Ragnar would never be thought of thus, but coupled with his soft, gentle priest, he may as well be even if no one ever knew of the bliss they shared in private moments. Ragnar was taking an enormous risk even letting the man be a part of his household and mind his children. If anyone knew of the rest of their relationship, all—perhaps even including his own life, and certainly Athelstan's life—would be lost.

Ragnar spoke up again. "I am sorry that things must be like this. I wish they were different. I wish that I could proclaim my feelings for you to all. By the gods, I wish that I could somehow take you to wife. Some earls and other men of power have more than one, after all. But my people would allow me a thousand women before they would allow me one man, and so we must always only be friends every time but when we are alone."

"I understand. I do not like it, but I do understand." Athelstan sighed. "I have one question, though."

"Yes?"

"Do you think of me this way? Do you think that I am a lesser man because I am not like you—not strong, not a warrior?"

After a quick glance around to be certain they were truly alone, Ragnar turned to him and placed a hand on his cheek. "Athelstan, you are unlike any person—man or woman—I have ever known. You have opened up to me a world I never before knew existed. Not just the lands and customs and language of your people, but that there are more ways of being than just the life I knew. I am a farmer and a warrior. You are not those things, but you are so many others that I cannot help but be in awe. It is true that there are times I wish you knew how to fight, if only to be able to protect yourself should you be attacked. I worry that you being who you are may someday get you killed by someone who does not understand and care for you the way I do." He paused, and pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen into Athelstan's eyes. His tonsure long filled in, he was now growing out his hair and beard in earnest, though managing them had been challenging. He understood why the Northmen wore plaits, and looked forward to having the length for such himself.

"I do not care whether you are _ergi_ or as powerful as Thor himself," Ragnar continued. "I care only about the person who lives inside you. You are a different man, and to some, different means wrong. To me, however, it means the world is a much bigger place than I had ever imagined, and that only makes me want to explore it more. For all that my people consider me strong, in the face of your knowledge, I have felt weak. You could never best me in battle, but you are teaching me that battle is not the only way that a man can have value. Perhaps it is for this reason that I love you, and hope you feel the same for me."

Athelstan was suddenly shy, and looked away. Though the man now knew every part of his body very well, it seemed Ragnar also knew his soul. It was unsettling, but also flattering. For perhaps the first time in his life, he started wondering whether he might someday be fit for more than service to someone else, whether church father, earl, or even God. In his old life, pride was a sin, yet a rush of it had lifted his heart. "Thank you," he finally said. "And I do feel the same. I love you." Drawing Ragnar's face down, he kissed him soundly.

After parting reluctantly, they began the short walk back to the great hall.

"I will be leaving soon," Ragnar said, reaching out to pat a goat as they passed the pen.

"I know."

"Does it bother you? That I will be going back to your country to raid again?"

Athelstan thought for a moment. "Yes and no. I would hope that you do not kill people unless you have to, and that you take only what you need. I certainly hope that you come back to me alive and well. But the longer I spend here, the less I feel like England is my home anyway. I may not ever be the kind of Northman your people would automatically respect, whether I am free or no, but I am starting to feel like I someday may at least be closer to that. You say you have enjoyed learning from me, but I am also enjoying learning from you."

Ragnar elbowed him in the side and chuckled. "I know." 

Athelstan flashed a shy grin. "Not just that."

"I knew what you meant. And I am glad. If we are teaching each other, perhaps we are both learning ways to be different men than the ones we thought we were, and perhaps we will both be stronger for it." Boldly, Ragnar slipped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "If in both of us grows my strength and your wisdom, who could then oppose such men?"


End file.
